


16. Oviposition/Breeding

by Unicorn (Jensee)



Series: Kinktober 2019 [13]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Breeding, Dream Sex, Dubious Consent, Hamid might be slightly drugged on magic or something, Incest, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Oviposition, Size Difference, fire metaphors, or so it seems, technically? Im pretty sure after a thousand years it stops being relevant, that's what happens when one of them is a dragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-20 18:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21061388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jensee/pseuds/Unicorn
Summary: Apophis can feel the fire under Hamid's skin, the power of his heritage running down his veins. The halfling is holding himself tall and proud despite his diminutive height. There's something to him, something deeper than a simple air-headed mortal; deeper even, that the heritage Apophis's blood has given him.It reminds him of another mortal, another halfling. One he'd met over a thousand years ago.





	16. Oviposition/Breeding

**Author's Note:**

> *shrug emoji*

It starts with the dark. He opens his eyes and all he can see is deep, unforgiving night. For a moment it feels like he’s simply floating in the void.

Then a light appears, a flame far away that reverberates on burnished, cavernous walls. It’s a warm light, tenuous as it is, and Hamid starts to feel real again. His feet are on a floor and his body is upright. Gravity hangs off of him like a heavy, dark curtain.

There’s a sound, the roaring of a mountain shifting, the violent winds of a monstrous breath.

“Hamid Saleh Haroun al Tahan,” Apophis says, a gentle growl that resonates in Hamid’s bones.

“S-Sir!” the words feel like a shout, but in front of the meritocrat, they make barely more sound than a whisper.

“You wear my heritage well.”

He shifts, scales folding in on themselves and retreating into a smaller form. Even like this, he’s almost twice as tall as Hamid. His eyes are molten lava and the heat pierces through Hamid, even though somewhere in his brain, he know he shouldn’t feel it. A scaly hand - adorned with jet black, sharp claws - caresses his cheek. It almost feels tender.

“Your appearance is deceitful, but the power that lies beneath your skin is great, and will only grow. I did not expect your family to carry the marks of my blood with quite as much honor.”

The claw stops under Hamid’s chin and tip his chin toward the human sized dragon.

“You have me impressed, Hamid.”

His hand is burning Hamid’s skin. Not in the scorching, painful way he would have expected, but as if molten lava had suddenly started bubbling from under his skin, extending inwards until Hamid himself feels like nothing but a pocket of pure fire.

“Don’t be afraid of it,” murmurs Apophis, and the walls tremble “Let it out.”

Hamid closes his eyes and lets himself drown in the feeling, only kept upright, it seems, by Apophis’s steady hand. He breathes, and a roaring flame comes out.

Apophis smiles. His hand on Hamid’s cheek suddenly does not feel as rough as it had previously, and Hamid soon understands why: his own skin is covered in thin, dark scales.

“There is something I’d like to give you, Hamid. Something of great importance to me I trust you to take care of.”

“Sir?” Hamid responds, and his voice no longer seems so feeble. The fire in his body has settled, still coursing through him, but without the threat of consuming him whole anymore.

Apophis raises his other hand to Hamid’s cheek, effectively cupping his head between his armored palms. His head is close. Closer than any normal human anatomy would allow. He _ isn’t _ humain, Hamid thinks as the smile of the creature deepens, showing glistening, sharp teeth, he is much _ more _ than that.

Apophis kisses him.

There’s a voice in the back of his head that tells him this isn’t possible. Even in a relatively humanoïde form, Apophis doesn’t have any kind of mouth Hamid could kiss. He shouldn’t be able to reach so high, his feet feeling so light he might as well be floating.

“Would you grant me this favor?” Apophis asks in his ear, and his breath is like the dry, scorching wind of the desert.

He doesn’t think.

“Of course.”

Apophis lets out a sound that rumbles under Hamid’s skin.

It’s not instantaneous, but without him really understanding how, Hamid feels the clothes over his skin fall away until he is naked under Apophis’s claws. There’s a continuous sound all around them, like a far away earthquake, and it takes Hamid a few seconds to realize it’s coming from the creature in front of him.

“A thousand year, and it still lives within you. My mark is in your blood and in your power, Hamid Saleh Haroun al Tahan.”

There’s something hard and polished tracing the curve of Hamid’s stomach, Apophis curled around him possessively in the darkness.

“I remember your ancestor. Her heartbeat sounded the same as yours does right now,” he rested his claw over Hamid’s heart, and now he could feel the blood rushing in his ears, “but her powers weren’t so akin to mine.”

There are teeth running down Hamid’s nape, and he wonders idly if he should feel frightened. His feelings feel heavy like a blanket in the winter impossible to shake off, and he can find no desire to free himself from the creature’s embrace.

“They didn’t feel _quite like yours_.”

Apophis bites down. Hamid gasps as his body arche into the feeling. It doesn’t hurt, it burns like he’s just been electrified: like too much pleasure all at once. The rumbling sound in the cavern intensifies, and with it, the heat residing in Hamid’s body. Suddenly, it’s too much again, but not amount of breathing is enough to relieve the pressure and he is left to suffocate while the inferno devours him from the inside.

“Don’t worry, little one. This is just blood calling for blood. _Your_ _body calling for mine._”

Somehow, the point of contact with the creature are now the only parts of Hamid’s body that don’t feel like they’re on fire. Instead, Apophis’s touch feel like cool water on a summer day, and Hamid finds himself trying to press closer to him.

The rumbling gets louder around them.

Something touches him and Hamid feels relief rippling into him, so fast it takes him a second to realize where it’s coming from. Apophis is rubbing his asshole, the faintest hint of a claw pushing into him until it’s much bigger, a whole finger, or maybe two. Hamid thinks he should be reacting to this by now, but his brain is incapable to move past the simple, sheer relief the touch is bringing him.

“Apophis…” he manages to mumble, but his only answer is a deeper sound vibrating in the air. Then there is a pressure inside him of a very different nature. Once again, the pain he’s expecting is turning into a furnace and he feels his mouth move with sounds he can’t quite hear. Hamid has never played with his ass before, he has no practical experience of the feeling, but there’s no way he can be opened enough for someone as big as the creature Apophis has taken the form off. He tries to say as much when the fingers leave him gaping.

“I can’t- I don’t-”

It doesn’t seem to matter because an instant later something definitely bigger than fingers enters him. Fear finally breaks through to his muddled mind but instead of pain, he can _ feel _ his body accommodating to the girth. Apophis pushes and pushes for what feels like an absurdly long time, and the pressure keeps growing, but instead of breaking apart, Hamid’s body seems to be caving in gently, simply allowing the lava hot member to fill him up until, finally, Apophis stops, fully embedded inside of him. Hamid struggles weakly, almost entirely unable to move with a dick that feels like it’s occupying half of his body. His hands find purchase on a scaly torso, that seem to be even bigger and wider than what he'd gathered.

“What are you doing?” He pushes weakly into the air, but the only response he gets is arms wrapping around him and the cock in him dragging itself out the quarter of an inch, and fucking back in.

Apophis exhales - the sound roaring like thunder - and a brush of fire licks Hamid's cheek: warm like the kiss of a lover.

Then the motion resumes. Slowly; cautiously at first, but Apophis loses his patience quickly, and Hamid finds himself being fucked fast and deep. Every thrust in feels like it stretches his malleable insides further; every time Apophis pulls out, the impossible, infernal furnace comes back and he is desperate for the meritocrat to fill him again, to ease his painful need. Apophis is like a tidal wave, and every time he crashes down inside Hamid, he can feel his nerves sparking up like fireworks. It all feels too much: too big, too fast, too deep, and his mind can barely process any of it. He can only cling to the creature fucking him and try to breath around the moans it tears from his throat.

Apophis doesn’t seem much more coherent: the sound is so loud now it’s surprising the mountain hasn’t buried them yet, and the air around them seem like it’s almost completely filled with fire, like they’ve become a fireball, a comet of their own.

None of this is possible, thinks Hamid, and Apophis's roars make the earth shake as he rams into him, his impossible cock reshaping Hamid once again. The strange, inescapable pleasure is too much, and he feels his own body tighten as a shout is ripped from him. It almost sounds like the echoing, thundery voice of a merictocrat.

There are words in the echo around him, but he can barely hear them over the beating of his own heart.

“... keep… safe…”

Apophis is still fucking into him, still impossibly large. There’s come trickling down Hamid’s body, and it takes him a few second to realize the creature has come as well. Is still coming, in fact, pushing deep, short thrusts into him as come fills him and overflows.

“I entrust you with my descendants, Hamid. Our descendant.” Apophis rumbles into his ears, and Hamid suddenly realized why his thrusts have changed. There’s a bulbous shape at his entrance, making any wider movement impossible, and Hamid shudders when he feels it moving deeper into him. Despite the weirdness of his orgasm, he still feels overly sensitive as he would normally, and the shape pushing against him is too much for his frayed nerves. He tries to struggle but clawed hands are keeping him in place.

“You’ve showed your ability to bear my line in your veins and your magic, Hamid. I want you to bear it with the rest of you as well.”

Hamid’s protest is overruled by a moan bubbling out of his mouth when he feels the shape push against his prostate. It’s an egg, he suddenly realizes. Apophis is filling him with eggs, and the first one just deposited itself deep within him.

“Why?” he moans brokenly around the second shape passing through his entrance.

“Our line will soon be broken. You’re the only one I trust to keep it safe.”

He holds him through the tremor of the second egg finding grip inside him.

“What does it mean? Broken?”

Apophis interrupts him by circling his dick deep within him, making him gasp at the sudden jolt of burning electricity.

“Don’t concern yourself with my future, Hamid.”

He grunts and another egg pops through Hamid’s distorted channel. Hamid’s grip tighten on what he can reach of Apophis. A hand snakes around his cock, and he moans, another orgasm already threatening to take him.

“Your only concern is to bear our line. Your line.”

He pushes down on the bundle of nerves inside Hamid and the sensation overwhelms him again.

Hamid gasps awake.

What?

Was this all a dream? Did he- But it had felt so _ real _.

He can’t help but pass a hand over his stomach, finding his smooth where his fantasy had it distended with an absurdly big dick, filled with eggs… He shudders.

“Ouch.”

He hadn’t realized the claw adorning his hands had been out. Sighing at the idea of having to brave the cold, he hisses himself out of the bedroom bandage the thin but somewhat deep, cut.

He’s halfway done when something in the mirror catches his eyes. His cheek, from the base of his ear, and down his throat to his shoulder, his skin has been replaced with burnished, brass scales.

And around it, open but painless, an ensemble of puncture wound in a semicircle. Like something made with a large mouth and very sharp teeth.


End file.
